


have to live before you die young

by lucymonster



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Galactic Bureaucracy, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-11-08 06:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: The boy looks nothing like his father.





	have to live before you die young

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fairleigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/gifts).



They bring him through the blast doors into the clean, calm sanctuary of Qi’ra’s inner office. A wraith all in black, with his jackboots clicking on the marble floor and his tattered cowl draped artfully around his shoulders. Everything chosen to portray an air of dark purpose and otherworldly danger. To intimidate, or impress, or perhaps simply to draw attention.

He’s wasted his time. Qi’ra knows a party costume when she sees one.

‘I’m surprised they let you in here,’ she says, looking past him at the guards who brought him through. They’re wearing the glazed expressions of men who’ve only recently fallen victim to a non-too-gentle Force trick. ‘I don’t generally allow masks or weapons in my presence.’

‘And I don’t generally take orders from criminals,’ he replies. His tone is unreadable through the crackling vocoder.

With a flourish – two can play at this game, and he’s chosen a defending champion for his playmate – Qi’ra rises from her chair and steps out around the desk. ‘A wise policy. But what’s your stance on polite requests from old family friends?’ He goes still, and in the moment of teetering silence that follows, she imagines she can hear the flutter of his eyelids as he blinks in confusion. ‘You’ve nothing to hide from me, Kylo Ren. I know who you are.’

The boy recovers fast. She’ll give him credit for that, although considering the stock he comes from, he’d have no excuse for sluggish reflexes. He steps towards her with a slow, deliberate gait while her dazed security guards look on placidly. When they’re close enough to touch, close enough that she can feel the lingering chill from outdoors on his clothing, he reaches to his hip.

Qi’ra stands very still, pulse holding steady.

He draws a battered lightsaber from the clip at his belt. The handle rests like a spoken threat in his black-gloved palm, thumb brushing the emitter switch with a lover’s teasing touch. Qi’ra waits. Smiles, just a little.

‘I know who you are, too,’ he says. As if it’s some kind of leverage he holds against her. As if she’s ever made even a nominal attempt to hide where she comes from.

Kylo Ren places the lightsaber on her desk. Then he takes off his mask.

A part of Qi’ra has been hoping for nostalgia, for a small thrill of recognition to break up the tedium of empty threats and bluster that defines her every dealing with the First Order. Nothing comes. The boy looks nothing like his father, his young face devoid of the roguish charm that’s meant to be synonymous with the Solo brand. Large nose. Sharp, cruel cheekbones. Sullen mouth. 

‘Ah,’ says Qi’ra. ‘I see why you prefer the mask.’ The boy flushes red and she adds, enjoying herself: ‘You don’t look very frightening without it, do you? I’m surprised Snoke is willing to trust such a very young servant with his business dealings. Tell me what you’ve come for.’

‘The shipment you promised never made it to Pion,’ says Kylo Ren. ‘Our retrieval crew waited at the drop zone, but station security made it there long before your convoy did. You’ve double-crossed the Order.’

‘I’ve done no such thing,’ says Qi’ra. ‘My convoy was intercepted by Pionian customs authorities. As we speak, I have people inside the trade bureau working to free it, but they’ve found that the Order’s name has limited currency in this sector. We’ve had to work within the law, and the law takes time.’

An expression flits across the boy’s all too open face – relief, perhaps a trace of disappointment – that confirms Qi’ra’s suspicions about Snoke’s motive for sending him. This wasn't a friendly visit. He expected to have to push her.

Her grace with the Order is running out faster than she expected, then.

‘Leader Snoke isn’t interested in waiting,’ says Kylo Ren. He sounds calmer now that he’s not working himself up to deliver a dose of Snoke's punishment in the immediate future. ‘He didn’t send me here for updates on the Pionian bureaucracy. He sent me here to collect that shipment.’

‘Then perhaps,’ says Qi’ra, ‘Leader Snoke should fill out a customs request.’

Kylo Ren stares at her. Perhaps no one has ever dared make light of Snoke in front of him. Or perhaps he thought she'd be more cowed by his attempts at menace. 

‘I have copies of all the paperwork here,’ she adds, making the most of his confounded silence. He's likely to escalate before too long. Scramble to re-establish control the only way he's ever learnt. ‘Form 801/7x: Application for review of restricted goods classification. Form 23cvq: Application for expedited clearance, ordnance department. Form 6/27a–’

She feels it coming before it hits: not Force sense, but intuition. A shapeless pressure closes around her throat and cuts off the airflow. Violence ripples in the air, but it's flickering, noncommittal, a limp and feeble thing devoid of any true intent. He’s not going to hurt her. Qi’ra has dealt in pain and fear far longer than this boy has been alive. She stays calm. Waits him out.

‘Leader Snoke,’ says Kylo Ren through gritted teeth, ‘isn’t interested in paperwork. Get. Us. The shipment.’

When the pressure on her windpipe eases, she breathes in a deep lungful of air and draws herself up straight. Keeps her anger turned down to a simmer. It won’t serve her right now. ‘It’s not a bluff, child. I’d love to give you the shipment because I’m looking forward to receiving my payment. But I assure you, rash actions won’t get us to our goals any sooner. Pion is a major New Republic trade hub. Any attempt to use force against the government is bound to attract the kind of attention I’m told the First Order prefers to avoid.’

In the wavering pause that follows, Qi’ra steps in uncomfortably close and gazes straight up into the boy’s face. She studies the set of his jaw and the whites of his eyes and the smooth, unmarred slope of his brow. All the features that should be familiar and aren’t. It may not be his fault – it could be hers. Perhaps it’s all too long ago. Perhaps what she’s looking for has already faded with the passing of time.

Or perhaps she just needs a closer look. Qi’ra knows – has known her whole life – how to deal with volatile men like him. ‘I sympathise with Snoke’s impatience,’ she says. ‘And I value my relationship with the Order. Perhaps, to assuage your concerns, you should stay with me while this transactions resolves. I’ll give you full access to my records concerning the shipment. You’ll find nothing in them to give you cause for anything less than the fullest confidence.’

Later on, she’ll lead this sullen boy into her bedroom and press her advantage further still with warm, steady hands and the burlesque pretense of a mother’s touch. He’ll come apart for her as easily as breathing. Seize her, bruise her, paw at her body like the untried novice that he is. Moan and beg until she squeezes the last wisps of air from his lungs in tender, brutal vengeance for his choking trick - until he falls silent, humbled, spent. She’ll whisper his name in her sultriest tones, and they’ll both pretend not to hear the echo of another man’s name in the dark, forgotten corners of their innermost hearts.

There’ll be nothing special about it, not for her. It will neutralise a threat and keep her entertained while she waits for the glacial Pionian bureaucracy to run its course. That’s what she’ll tell herself.

But first, right now, she has another point to make. ‘Come,’ she says, stepping back to let the boy catch his breath with the loss of her closeness. He’s strong in the Force, she knows – he will have sensed her intentions, and it will take him time to figure out what to do with them. ‘Sit, while my men collect the records for you. We have a lot to talk about, you and I. I’m dying to hear how your father’s getting on.’

The look on the boy’s face tells her everything she needs to know: all his needs, all his weaknesses. Snoke was a fool to send someone so young.

But that suits her just fine.


End file.
